The Uninvited Guest
by The Yankee Countess
Summary: Something unexpected takes place on the day of Edith and Sir Anthony's wedding, an event that will effect all three couples and bring a great change to their lives... (originally written on tumblr, now brought to FF for STEAMM day 2015) Sybil/Tom, Edith/Anthony, Mary/Matthew
1. Chapter 1

_Two years ago, just before our first STEAMM day, I wrote this drabble series on Tumblr; a "rewrite of 3x03". I've always wanted to bring it over to FF, and STEAMM day 2015 just seemed like the perfect time! So here is part one, with the rest being posted shortly throughout the week. Thank you for reading, and if this is the first time you've encountered this story? I do hope you enjoy. And if it's the second or third time? Well, I hope you enjoy it again :o) HAPPY STEAMM DAY!_

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 **THE UNINVITED** **GUEST** **  
** _a STEAMMy 3x03 rewrite_ **  
 _by The Yank_** _ **ee Countess** **  
**_

 **~1~**

"Oh Edith, you look beautiful!"

Edith couldn't help but grin as she admired her reflection in the mirror. It wasn't often that she felt beautiful, especially in the presence of her two sisters, but right now…yes, yes she had to agree with what her youngest sister had said.

"I do look rather pretty, don't I?"

Mary and Sybil giggled and smiled and nodded their heads with approval.

"Oh, let us have a photograph taken of the three of us when we get to the church!" she eagerly suggested. "All three of us; happy and married!"

She glanced at Sybil and noticed how her sister was rubbing her belly. She had been doing that a great deal since she and Tom had arrived at Downton for her wedding. "Sybil…is everything alright?"

She was surprised by Edith's question, but nodded her head. "Yes, yes, everything's fine," she answered with a reassuring smile. "He's just kicking a lot."

"He?" Mary asked with the lift of an elegant eyebrow.

Sybil giggled. "Tom and I have a little bet going; he's convinced it's a girl, so naturally I am saying it will be a boy, although both of us will be happy with either," she explained, her hand rubbing her belly in a soothing gesture…and trying her hardest to hide the slight discomfort she was feeling.

A quick knock brought all three sisters attentions to the door, and they smiled as their mother poked her head inside. "Well? Are you ready? We mustn't keep Sir Anthony waiting!"

Edith grinned and reached for Mary and Sybil's hands, squeezing them tightly, before turning and following them out of the room, linking arms with her mother as they quickly moved downstairs to the motor that was waiting for them…

 **~2~** _  
_

"Groom seems a bit nervous," Matthew commented to his friend and fellow brother-in-law. "Was I that nervous?"

Tom glanced over his shoulder at their soon-to-be third brother-in-law. "You were, although I think it was more because you were worried Mary wouldn't come…and I don't think we have to worry about that with Edith," he chuckled.

Matthew smiled and nodded. "No, I don't think we do. I understand that all three of them were up quite late last night? At least I was asleep by the time Mary came to bed."

Tom nodded. "It was well past midnight when Sybil came back; she said that Edith was very excited and had many questions to ask."

Matthew lifted his brows at this. "Well I hope both our wives were able to provide her with the answers she was looking for."

Tom didn't say anything, only smiled to himself. However as he glanced again at Sir Anthony, he frowned at the way the man seemed to be…fidgeting in his pew. He looked as if he couldn't make up his mind if he wanted to remain seated…or bolt up.

"Here they come," Matthew murmured, pointing to the motor that contained the bride and her sisters.

"One moment!" Cora announced as the three sisters climbed out of the car behind her. "The girls want a picture together; it won't take very long!"

Matthew and Tom nodded and smiled, before turning to enter the church. "Best tell the groom to reassure him that the bride did come," Matthew joked.

"Good idea," Tom agreed, although he couldn't shake this strange feeling that something wasn't right. As Matthew made his way to talk to Sir Anthony, Tom settled in his own pew, just next to the Dowager Countess. "Edith, Sybil, and Mary are here," he told her. "Having a photograph taken outside; just the three of them."

"Hmmm," Violet murmured under her lips.

Tom wasn't quite sure what to make of that. He glanced over at Sir Anthony and Matthew. "Is everything alright?" he asked. "With Sir Anthony? He seems…very nervous."

Violet glanced over at the groom and pursed her lips together. "I don't know why; it's not as if he's never done this sort of thing before."

Was it his imagination? Or did his grandmother-in-law sound…displeased?

Tom couldn't help but frown and turn his attention back to Sir Anthony. Perhaps he should go and talk to him? After all, didn't Matthew always say that to take on the Crawley girls, they as brothers-in-law, needed to stick together? And as far as he was concerned, Sir Anthony Strallan was already one of them…

 **~3~**

"They're here," Matthew murmured to his soon-to-be brother-in-law. Sir Anthony looked up at the future earl, his eyes wide but he forced a smile and gave a thankful nod for being informed, before turning his attentions once again to the front of the church, his eyes fixed on the altar and cross that stood behind it.

Matthew couldn't help but frown slightly. He understood how nerve wracking one's wedding day could be, but…Sir Anthony seemed to tense even more at the understanding that his bride was just outside. Should he say something? Try to offer some "words of wisdom" the way Tom had? He glanced over at his Irish brother-in-law, who was looking right back, and he could tell that Tom also looked concerned, in fact he was rising from his pew and moving over to where Matthew stood and Sir Anthony sat.

"Everything alright?" he whispered, forcing a smile of his own and trying to look cheerful for the groom.

Matthew glanced back at Sir Anthony, waiting for him to reply. Was it his imagination? Or…was Sir Anthony having difficulty breathing? Indeed, the man seemed to be wheezing, as if he were about to have some sort of attack!

"Sir Anthony?" he murmured, reaching forward to put a calming hand on the man's shoulder. However his hand only met air when suddenly the groom rose to his feet at a speed that was altogether startling, even earning a few gasps from the people sitting nearby.

"I can't do this…"

Matthew's eyes went wide and he looked at Tom. Tom wore the same expression, his own face pale and full of horrified shock at the words that had escaped the other man's lips.

"I…I…I'm sorry," Sir Anthony whispered. "I…please…please, stop her from coming in, I…I don't want to embarrass her…" and then without any other word, the groom moved at a quick pace towards the sacristy door just past the lectern.

Tom and Matthew stared at each other and then at the retreating figure. "We have to stop him!" Matthew hissed.

"We have to stop Edith from coming in!" Tom hissed back, imagining his sister-in-law's horror if she were to enter that church now…and find that her fiancée was missing.

They both turned towards the congregation, who were looking a little confused by Sir Anthony's sudden disappearance, and like a pair of professional actors, put on reassuring smiles which seemed to ease a few people. "Mr. Travis," Matthew said turning towards the vicar. "If you would be so kind as to…stall things for a moment? We'll be back as soon as possible."

The vicar frowned. "Is everything–?"

"Everything's fine!" Tom replied. "Just…it's…it's a 'groom' thing," he tried to explain. "We brothers-in-law need a moment, that's all."

They didn't bother waiting for Travis' reply; Matthew turned towards the door Sir Anthony had exited, while Tom briskly moved up the aisle to church doors to stall the bride…


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks again for reading and following! Moving right along..._

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 **~4~**

"One more!" the photographer announced, holding the camera steady as he focused on the three sisters.

"I hope so," Mary muttered through her teeth, her smile still radiate despite her discomfort.

"Is your jaw hurting from smiling so much?" Sybil teased.

Mary gave her sister a look from the corner of her eye. "Don't be cheeky, Mrs. Branson."

Sybil giggled. "Oh, clearly I struck a nerve; you only call me that when I'm on your bad side."

"Now ladies," Edith sighed, giggling herself because she was in the "odd place" of being the referee. The three sisters turned and faced the camera with lovely smiles that would rival the sun, and with a puff of smoke, the picture was taken.

"Oh finally," Mary sighed, straightening the skirt of her dress. It was a rather windy day and she was surprised her hat hadn't been blown from her head. "Well, come on, best we go in before Papa has a panic attack." Indeed, Robert Crawley was standing by the church doors, looking extremely agitated and glancing at his pocket watch, before lifting his eyes to the heavens and groaning.

"Oh I know; as Granny would say, 'a Crawley is never late'," Edith giggled. She couldn't stop smiling. Even if she tried, she couldn't stop! This was her wedding day! Now she understood the excitement, the nerves, the stress, and the bliss her sisters had felt when they had gone through their weddings. No longer the one standing off to the side and watching; she was now the bride, standing in her own gown, feeling as lovely as a princess from a fairytale, and she couldn't wait to see her future husband, standing there at the end of the aisle, ready to take his arm and make vows unto themselves, God, and the world, that they would love each other for the rest of their lives as husband and wife. Oh indeed, she could not stop beaming!

"Edith…" she turned to Mary and looked up at her sister, a little surprised by her tone. It sounded…urgent. "I know that the two of us haven't always…" she paused, as if trying to think of the right word that was both appropriate and polite. "Well," Mary blushed, a sheepish smile gracing her pretty face. "What I'm trying to say is that…despite what you might think…I do love you, and I am very proud and happy for you, and I wish you the very best."

Edith blushed and felt tears well up in her eyes at her sister's words. "Oh Mary, I–"

"Girls!?" their father groaned, stuffing his pocketwatch back into his morning coat.

The sisters sighed and gave a smile to their father. "Coming, Papa," they said together.

However they had not gone but two steps when the doors to the church opened, nearly hitting the Earl of Grantham in the face.

"Tom?" Sybil murmured, frowning in confusion and recognizing the worried expression on his face, despite the false smile he put on it at the sight of the three of them.

"Oh I know we're late," Edith sighed, thinking that her brother-in-law had come out to find them. "But I couldn't help it, I wanted a moment with my sisters just before–"

"No, no, that's alright," Tom reassured. "Um…in fact…the three of us, that is, we brothers-in-law," he tried to explain with what he hoped sounded like good humor, "need a moment as well."

Sybil's frown deepened. While Mary and Edith looked confused, she felt an odd sense of dread, and moved as quickly as her pregnant body would allow to her husband's side. "Is everything alright?" she whispered, her eyes staring into his, trying to read the truth in their depths.

Tom sighed and glanced over his shoulder at the church, before turning back to his wife and whispering, "It _will_ be; just give us a little time…"

 **~5~**

"SIR ANTHONY!" Matthew practically bellowed as he raced through the church yard, dodging ancient gravestones as he went, trying his hardest to catch up with the runaway groom before he reached his car. "SIR ANTHONY STOP!"

To his relief, Sir Anthony did stop, gasping for breath but shaking his head as he turned. Matthew was struck by the tears and immense sadness he could see on the man's face. "I'm sorry…" Sir Anthony moaned. "I…I can't do it, I can't–"

"Do you not love her?" Matthew asked, his eyes searching the other man's, trying to find the truth behind the tears and the sudden decision to leave his sister-in-law before she even made it to the altar.

The question gave Sir Anthony pause. "I…" he swallowed and thought about her sweet face, her tender smile, her lovely way she spoke to him, looked at him, laughed at his jokes; she was genuine and kind and filled him with such hope and warmth. "Yes," he whispered, looking back into the future earl's eyes. "I do love her."

Matthew shook his head. "Then…forgive me, Sir Anthony, but…what is the problem?"

Sir Anthony sighed and lifted his good arm to wipe the residue of his tears away. "Look at me, Mr. Crawley…" he sighed, in both disgust and defeat. "I'm an old man; broken and foolish. She'll spend more of her days as my nurse, not my wife. And if we have any children, I'll be in my seventies by the time they're grown. How can I doom such a woman, especially one as sweet and lovely as Lady Edith, to such a fate?"

Matthew groaned in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. "Do you think Edith didn't consider _any_ of this when she accepted your proposal? Or when she fought for you? When others murmured their doubts, she stood up for you! Multiple times she was given the opportunity to break off the engagement, but she didn't because she WANTS to marry you! And not out of some sense of obligation, but because…" his voice grew softer as he thought of his own dark-eyed bride, who not very long ago, had stood beside him in this very church, and exchanged vows to love and cherish him for the rest of her life. "…Because she loves you," Matthew finished, turning his eyes back to Sir Anthony.

Sir Anthony stood there, looking rather shaken by Matthew's revelation. "But…but isn't it kinder to release her from these burdens now, before she comes to regret her decisions and hate herself–"

"Who says she'll hate herself? Who says she'll regret her decisions? COUSIN VIOLET?" Matthew shook his head. "You are doing the very opposite of kindness to both her and yourself, if you go now. Because you will regret it." Matthew paused, once again thinking about his own wife. "Not everyone is given a second chance, Sir Anthony; don't waste the time you have now on doubting."

Sir Anthony looked at the man who would be his brother-in-law. Even though he was twenty years older than Matthew Crawley, the future earl spoke with a wisdom of a sage.

"Besides," Matthew added, a smile lifting at the corners of his mouth. "When a Crawley girl sets her sight on a man, there's no hope for whoever he is."

"Damn right," agreed an Irish accent, and both Matthew and Sir Anthony turned to see Tom approaching with a cheeky grin. "And thank God for that," he added, which earned a chuckle and a nod from Matthew.

Sir Anthony found himself smiling at both young men. They were so different, all three of them. He was a baronet, a man of fortune and title; Mr. Crawley was a middle class solicitor from Manchester and Mr. Branson was a working class Irish Catholic who used to work in service! And yet…despite the differences in their individual upbringings, as well as their ages, he found himself feeling a strong kinship with these two very different men.

"Sybil is stalling Edith," Tom explained. "But we better not keep them waiting for long, or else that confusion will become suspicion and that suspicion will become assumption."

Sir Anthony swallowed and glanced back and forth between the two men and then over his shoulder at the church. "You…you really think I can make her happy? And give her the life she deserves?"

It was Tom who asked the question this time. "Do you love her?"

Sir Anthony didn't hesitate. "I do."

Both men smiled. "Then that's all, that's it's," Tom murmured, repeating the words he had spoken years ago to the woman he proudly called his wife. "The rest is detail…"

 **~6~**

"Edith, you need to stop pacing; you're getting your train dusty!" Sybil tried to reason and keep her sister calm.

"What's taking them so long?" Edith muttered to her little sister. "Our photograph didn't take nearly as long as this!"

After Tom had told them that the three Crawley brothers-in-law needed a moment of their own, Edith and her sisters waited outside the church for several long minutes, before Mary muttered how she couldn't stand the wind for another moment, and slipped inside. Edith and Sybil couldn't help but agree with their older sister, and so they too slipped inside, keeping to the very back of the church narthex, away from any prying eyes, so long as they kept quiet.

However, despite Sybil's best efforts with trying to keep her sister calm and patient, Edith was growing more and more agitated the longer they waited. It got to the point that Mary muttered that she would go and see if she could find "the boys" to hurry them up with whatever brotherly bonding they felt needed to be done.

"He's left me…"

Sybil whirled around and stared up at her sister in shock at the words Edith had uttered. "What!?"

Edith's lip trembled, her eyes began to fill with tears. "That's it, isn't it? He's gone; he's gone and Tom and Matthew are trying to think of a way to say something without embarrassing me, but…but what's the point if he's gone?"

"Oh Edith, no! No, no, I'm sure it's nothing like that–"

"Oh Sybil, you weren't here when all the nonsense started," Edith sniffled. "Granny and Papa; they tried so hard to discourage the two of us! They thought him 'too old'," she shook her head in disgust. "Grandmama was able to convince Papa otherwise, but you know how easily swayed Papa can be if Granny has the chance to sink her claws into him!"

Sybil closed her eyes and took a deep breath, partially to keep herself calm from this news Edith was telling her about their family's possible interference with Edith and Sir Anthony's happiness…and because those aches she had been feeling earlier were starting to become sharper and stronger.

"Sir Anthony loves you," Sybil stated firmly. "It's obvious from the way he gazes at you! I remember how the two of you danced at Mary and Matthew's wedding," she smiled. "You both looked so happy! And I believe you make him feel a great deal younger…as if…well, as if you've given him a new vitality on life!"

Edith gasped and stared at her sister in shock and amazement. "He said something like that to me…" she whispered, recalling how not so long ago, he had leaned down towards her, and murmured in her ear those words that had filled her heart with such joy: "You have given me back my life…" She thought he was going to kiss her, but oddly, those words were sweeter than any kiss ever could be. Did Sir Anthony know that he had done the same for her? After so many years of living in the shadow of her two beautiful, dark-haired sisters, of being considered the eternal spinster time and time again…he had given her hope? That he had given her back her life too?

Sybil smiled. "Well there, you see? Nothing to worry about; I'm sure everything is fine."

Edith nibbled her bottom lip and tried to take several calming breaths. At least her brothers were with him and not her father or grandmother. She loved Matthew and Tom; she loved her sisters too, very much (yes, even Mary), but she loved having brothers at last, and both Matthew and Tom were everything she could have ever hoped for in loving, supportive brothers. If Sir Anthony was having doubts as a result of her father's and grandmother's bullying, she knew that Matthew and Tom would set things right. Or at the very least, they would do what they could to look out for her.

Her attentions were pulled back to her sister who let out a little hiss. Sybil was rubbing her lower back with one hand, while the other leaned against the wall.

"Sybil?" Edith asked, concern in her voice. "Are you alright?"

Sybil forced a smile and nodded. "I'm fine, just…my lower back; it's all this standing," she explained, trying to make light of the pain she was feeling, but Edith wasn't buying it.

"Perhaps you should go and sit down?"

"Oh I will, soon; when Mary gets back with word, I'll do just that, I promise," Sybil reassured, still trying to look calm and collected for her sister.

Edith still wasn't convinced, but before she could say another word, the very sister to whom Sybil had mentioned appeared, gasping as if she had been running, but looking happy and relieved. "They're coming," she reassured.

Edith gasped and reached out to take Mary's hand. "All of them?"

"Of course!" Mary smiled. If her older sister had been worried as Edith had been earlier, she didn't show it. "They were all laughing when I found them; muttering something about 'being mad because they have married Crawley girls'," she rolled her eyes, but both Sybil and Edith shared in her laughter.

Edith blushed and looked down at the flowers in her hands. "Well…almost married, in my case…" she murmured.

Just then their father appeared, looking irritated about how late things were running, but rather relieved as well. "Alright, whatever that was about, apparently it's all settled," he muttered, before turning to his daughters and smiling. "Edith my dear," he said, offering his arm to his middle daughter. "It's time…"

 **~7~**

"Well done, Mr. Branson," Matthew whispered under his breath.

Tom chuckled. "Same to you, Mr. Crawley."

Everything was as it should be. After a good talk with Sir Anthony in the church yard, the groom not only seemed confident to carry on with the wedding, but determined, even. Any trace of tears that the man might have shed were long since gone, and the three were laughing, talking about their "high-minded wives", and how they couldn't be happier, married to Crawley girls. Or as Sir Anthony murmured, "…or will be married to, very soon."

That was how Mary had found them, laughing and letting the anxiety of the day blow past on a heavy breeze. She gave each of them a stern look (especially her husband) before demanding to know what was taking so long, and then looking squarely at Sir Anthony and asking him directly, "Well? Are you going to marry my sister, or aren't you?"

"I am," he answered, looking serious and once again showing no signs of hesitation.

"Good," Mary stated, with a stern nod. She noticed how Matthew was smiling at her and dramatically rolled her eyes, before chastising them like a bunch of naughty school boys, telling them to "get a move on," before turning and marching back towards the church.

"The future Countess of Grantham demands," Matthew sighed, sheepishly grinning at his brothers-in-law.

"And who are we to cross her?" Tom chuckled, before clapping a hand on Sir Anthony's shoulder and encouraging him to lead the way. He did, but not before turning and looking at both young men and giving them a thankful smile.

"I nearly made the greatest mistake of my life," he sighed, shaking his head at how close he had come to throwing away his chance for happiness.

Now here they were, back inside the church, Sir Anthony standing tall and proud, his eyes focused on the altar to savor the moment before his bride was to join him, and Tom and Matthew (both of whom were acting as "best men") were momentarily sitting behind him, grinning like fools feeling rather proud of themselves for having "saved the day".

The pipe organ struck the familiar tune of Mendelssohn's wedding march, and everyone rose to their feet. Tom and Matthew exchanged one final look of proud triumph, before rising themselves and turning to catch sight of their sister-in-law who was beaming and looking relieved and beautiful as she walked down the aisle to greet her soon-to-be husband.

Sir Anthony turned and felt his breath catch in his throat as he gazed at his bride, her smile dazzling and lovely. _Indeed, I nearly made the greatest mistake of my life,_ he thought to himself, once again silently thanking his fellow Crawley sister brothers-in-law for talking some sense into him and making him see reason. Nothing, not even the Dowager Countess' haughty looks of displeasure would sway him now from taking Edith Crawley's hand, and slipping her wedding band on her finger.

"Hello," Edith whispered shyly, blushing as she smiled up at him.

"Hello, my sweet one," he whispered back, his eyes filling with tears again, only this time they were happy. "You look lovely."

She blushed and did not hesitate in releasing her father's arm and taking Sir Anthony's. The music came to an end and Mr. Travis greeted everyone gathered, opening with a prayer over the couple and those gathered, before addressing the church with the familiar words, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, to bear witness to the marriage of Sir Anthony Strallan and Lady Edith Crawley; but first I am required to ask anyone present who knows a reason why these persons may not lawfully marry, to confess and declare it now, or forever hold–"

"NO!"

A gasp went up from around the room at the sound, and both Sir Anthony and Edith turned with wide eyes and pale faces, along with everybody else, as they gazed in shock and horror at the startled face of Dowager Countess of Grantham…


	3. Chapter 3

_Ok, that was a cruel cliffhanger...so here's the next part to try and make up for it ;o)_

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 **~8~**

"It wasn't me!" Violet Crawley defended to all the confused and frowning faces that were staring at her. She then turned and looked pointedly at her youngest granddaughter who was gripping the pew in front of her and seemed to be doubled-over in pain.

"SYBIL!?" Tom gasped, pushing past Matthew and shoving his way through the small crowd of people gathered until he was by his wife's side. "Sybil? Love? What is it? What's wrong?"

She was groaning and her hand was clutching at her belly and she kept mumbling over and over, "No, no, no, no, no…"

"Sybil? Syb? My darlin'? Talk to me, please?" Tom coaxed, his hands tenderly gripping her shoulders, trying to get her to stand upright, bending himself to see her face, confusion, concern, and fear etched across his features.

"I say, is she declaring an impediment about the couple, or is something generally wrong?" Mr. Travis asked, looking most put out for having his service interrupted and not knowing what was going on.

Tom lifted his head and looked ready to shout something at the vicar (and shout the sort of thing one shouldn't shout in church), but thankfully Matthew stepped forward, lifting a hand to try and calm the room in a manner befitting the future Earl of Grantham.

"Sybil?" Edith asked, glancing at her sister and brother-in-law. She had sensed something was the matter earlier; oh Lord, why hadn't she said anything?

Sybil groaned again and slowly began to straighten herself up. Tom was there and held her arm and she held onto him, not letting him go. "I…I think…" she swallowed and winced as another shot of pain went through her body. "I…I think it's time…"

"Time?" Tom asked, and then his face paled as the realization washed over him. _"NOW!?"_

Sybil bit her lip and nodded her head. "Yes…oh God!" she gasped, another wave of pain shooting through her. "Yes, now!"

"What's going on?" Robert asked, making his way towards his daughter. He had been standing off to the side after presenting Edith to Sir Anthony, and like Mr. Travis, was trying to make sense of what was happening.

Cora was staring at Sybil with the same look of shock that Tom wore, however if she was feeling any sort of panic, she kept it hidden. "We need to get her back to the house. Right away," she calmly instructed, reaching out and taking her daughter's free hand, the one that wasn't holding on to her husband.

"Cora?" Robert asked, stepping up to his wife, his eyes searching hers for the answer, although he had a feeling he knew what it was.

Cora put on a brave smile and squeezed Sybil's hand. "Our grandchild is coming," she explained.

Robert's face turned as white as a sheet. "But…but that can't be…" he whispered. "She's not…I mean…she isn't even…?"

"Three weeks," Sybil whimpered, still holding tight to her husband. "I'm three weeks early!"

Tom's eyes widened and he looked up at Mary who was standing just in front of him. Mary's face paled and she lifted her head to the room. "DR. CLARKSON!?" she shouted, surprising people who were not used to hearing the eldest Crawley girl raise her voice.

The family physician was making his way forward, and Matthew and Sir Anthony quickly got to work, asking people to move aside to let the man through. Edith stood by helplessly, tears welled up in her eyes, but not for her interrupted wedding, but with fear for her baby sister. She looked to Mary, who was staring back at her, and whose eyes mirrored hers exactly.

"I'm here," Dr. Clarkson informed, coming around to Sybil's other side. "But we need to get her someplace to lie down."

"I'll get the car!" Edith shouted over the crowd, and several people gasped as the bride grabbed a hold of her train, hoisted it up to her knees, and barreled her way through the crowd to reach the nearest motor. Despite the madness that had erupted in the church, Sir Anthony couldn't help but smile at her determination, and found himself following her out the door.

Mathew, Mary, and Robert were clearing a way up the aisle, while Tom, Cora, and Dr. Clarkson were hovered around Sybil. "Can you walk, love?" Tom asked, his hands holding her steady, despite the fact that every fiber of his being was trembling.

"I…I think so–NO!" she gasped, nearly doubling over again as the pain swept through her. Tom didn't ask further; he bent down, picked her up, and carried her up the aisle, the doctor and Lady Grantham close behind.

People everywhere were talking and gasping and mumbling about what had happened and was happening and everyone clearly looked unsure about what to say or do now that the wedding had been interrupted and the bride had gone to drive a car with the groom on her heels, and the youngest sister appeared to be in labor, and it was all just one massive cloud of chaos, until the mighty beat of a cane on the stone floors of the church brought everyone's attention back to the front, where the Dowager Countess stood, scowling at them all.

"Well, clearly the wedding has been postponed until the birth of the bride's niece of nephew!" she informed the stunned congregation. "However, you are welcome to attend a 'reception of sorts' back at the house," she added, before turning and looking at a flabbergasted Mr. Travis. "It would be a shame to waste a perfectly good cake…"

 **~9~**

"I want to see her!"

"Tom be reasonable!" Robert groaned, holding his hot-headed son-in-law back by the shoulders (or at the very least attempting to). "A gentleman has no business being present when a baby is about to be born!"

Tom fixed his father-in-law with a harsh stare. "I'm no 'gentleman'," he snarled, trying to push his way in again. "What I am is Sybil's husband and our child's father, and I WILL SEE HER!"

"Robert, let him through," Matthew spoke up, putting a calming hand on both the shoulders of his brother and father-in-law. "If I were in Tom's shoes, I believe I would want to be with my wife as well–in fact I'm sure of it."

Mary, who was standing nearby, also ready to intervene if needs be, gasped and stared in surprise at her husband. "You would?" she asked, her dark eyes wide. She honestly didn't know what to make of his words. While it was certainly not seen as "proper", at the same time, having just come from Sybil's room where her sister looked so scared and kept asking over and over for the Irishman…if she were in Sybil's shoes, perhaps she would want Matthew present as well?

Matthew smiled at his wife, a loving tender smile, the sort that was a secret exchange between the two of them. She felt a blush creep up to her cheeks and she looked down, before stepping away from the door and giving Tom an encouraging nod. "She's asking for you," she told him, while also putting a reassuring hand on her father's shoulder.

Robert groaned and let go of his son-in-law's shoulders, and Tom, with a grateful smile to both Matthew and Mary, quickly moved inside the room to where his darling Sybil sat, breathing heavily, her skin covered in sweat, her hair hanging down around her face. "Tom?" she whispered through her heavy breaths.

"I'm here, love," he murmured, quickly moving to the edge of the bed and gently brushing her hair away from her face. "I'm here," he repeated, his free hand being quick to take hold of hers and give a gentle squeeze to her fingers.

She smiled despite the labor pains and even blushed a little. "Typical, isn't it?" she groaned. "Just…just when you and…and Matthew manage to get Sir Anthony back…" she paused to take a deep breath. "I manage to ruin the wedding."

"You haven't ruined anything," Tom shushed, bringing her hand to his mouth and holding it against his lips. "The wedding has only been delayed for a little while. Edith and Sir Anthony will be married, the only difference is that their niece will be present," he smiled.

Sybil smiled too, despite her painful contractions. "You're…you're still so sure…it's a girl…"

Tom chuckled and nodded. "I've known ever since I first felt her kick; no boy kicks like that. She's her mother's daughter, that's for sure."

She tried to laugh, but ended up gasping in pain as another tremor coursed through her body. Once again Tom leaned up to brush her sweaty brow, and Sybil whimpered, leaning into it and looking down at herself. "Just look at me–"

"You're beautiful, Sybil Branson," he told her, knowing and anticipating what she was going to say, but stopping her before she had the chance. "Even more lovely than the day I met you; the day I married you, if that's possible."

Sybil looked up and met his gaze, and a pink blush covered her cheeks and loving tears filled her eyes as she saw her emotions reflected back in his own blue eyes, which no doubt held memories of their own wedding day, and the night and many nights that followed it, including the night that led to the miracle of their child who was about to be born.

"Edith and Sir Anthony are downstairs with your grandmother, 'entertaining' everyone," Tom informed her. "Mary says it's a first; a bride and groom who are still engaged and not yet married, hosting their wedding breakfast."

Sybil smiled and was about to say something when a massive wave of pain shot through her body, and she threw her head back and practically screamed.

"SYBIL!?" Tom gasped, wincing as he felt her hand squeeze his like a vice.

Dr. Clarkson, who had been standing in the corner talking to Lady Grantham to give the couple some privacy, rushed over and urged Tom to move out of the way. Tom swallowed and felt his mother-in-law's hands on his shoulders and turned to face her. "Tom, you need to know something," Cora murmured, glancing nervously over his shoulder. Tom's eyes widened and fear gripped his heart at her words. _Oh no…Sybil, the baby…no, no, no!_

"The child is early…three weeks early," Cora whispered.

"What…what does that…?" he knew very little about babies despite being a brother with four younger siblings.

Cora led him further back to the corner where she had been standing. "It means that the baby is premature," she tried to explain as calmly and quietly as possible. "It means that he or she will be very small, and…" her voice trailed off and Tom saw tears in her eyes; eyes that Sybil had inherited, that he prayed their daughter would inherit.

"And?" he asked, although he was afraid to ask, because he was terrified of the answer.

"And…" Cora took a deep breath. "And may not survive…"


	4. Chapter 4

**~10~**

"I must say…this is the most unusual wedding I have ever attended," remarked Lady Forsythe (a good friend of the Dowager Countess). "Very unusual…but you both did look very fine," she added, patting Edith's hand as she passed.

Edith put on a smile for the woman, although she wasn't quite sure how to respond, really. However she did find herself silently agreeing with the woman. Indeed, it was unusual…and not at all how she had imagined her wedding day to go.

Here she stood, in the Downton drawing room, watching as guests ate cake and helped themselves to the feast Mrs. Patmore and her army of kitchen maids had prepared, even though they were partaking in the wedding breakfast before an actual wedding ceremony had managed to be completed. Also, she no longer wore her lovely gown (one couldn't very well move around like so with such a train) and had changed into something that was still rather elegant, but much more practical for the current situation at hand.

Yes…it was most unusual. Still, as she gazed across the drawing room at her fiancée, who was smiling and laughing and making small talk with some more of their guests, she couldn't help but feel warmth wash over her at how…perfect, it all was.

True, they were still not yet married, and there had been that brief moment of fear that he had left her at the altar due to her grandmother's bullying, and now her sister was upstairs preparing to give birth, but…despite all these things, it still was, in its own way… _perfect_.

Edith gave Lady Forsythe a parting smile, before moving across the room to where Sir Anthony stood, joining him by his side and not hesitating to link her arm through his.

"Are these friends of yours?" she asked husband (for as far as she was concerned, he was that). "Would you be so kind as to introduce me?"

Sir Anthony smiled and gave her hand a squeeze before doing just that, making introductions for Edith and smiling as his bride spoke to his friends, every inch the future Lady Strallan. Oh Lord, what a fool he had been to have such doubts in her, and himself! Yes, he could see exactly what Matthew had said to him…she truly was happy! She truly wanted this, even if he was "an old fool", she wanted to be his wife, to share the rest of his life by his side. This beautiful woman, who truly could have any young man she wanted, he was convinced…had chosen him. _Again_. Indeed, he needed to stop fighting the signs; they were meant to be together.

Despite the many voices that filled the room, Sir Anthony did hear a distinct pair of footsteps and lifted his head to see the former chauffeur, and his future brother-in-law, enter the drawing room and looking very…

Well to be perfectly honest, the man looked as if he were suffering from shell shock!

Sir Anthony's brow furrowed with concern, and he carefully stepped away from Edith, quietly making his way towards Tom, who didn't seem to know what to do upon entering the room. He was pale, and his eyes were filled with sadness, worry, fear, and helplessness. "Any news?" he softly asked, trying to sound positive, although he had a feeling that whatever news Tom had, judging from the look of him, it wasn't good.

Tom swallowed and glanced around the room. Few people were paying them any heed. "The baby," he began. "She's…she's three weeks early…"

Sir Anthony stiffened at the news. He remembered Lady Sybil saying something like that back at the church. He and Maud had not had any children, though he had wanted them. But even though he wasn't a father and had little contact with infants, he knew enough to know that what Tom was telling him was that the baby's health was at risk because it was coming earlier than expected.

He glanced at his brother-in-law and saw that Tom looked to be caught somewhere between breaking down and sobbing, or lashing out and throwing something across the room. Either way, the last thing the Irishman needed was a roomful of posh strangers staring at him.

"My sweet one?" Sir Anthony murmured to Edith. She glanced at him and immediately read the silent explanation on his face. She put on a smile, gave a nod, and turned back to their guests, talking to them and doing what she could to distract anyone from taking notice as Sir Anthony placed a firm but comforting hand on Tom's shoulder.

"Let's go somewhere a little less crowded and have a drink, hmm?" he murmured. "His Lordship's library perhaps? I understand that is where he keeps the best brandy."

Tom sighed and nodded his head, allowing Sir Anthony to lead him away, feeling rather grateful for it, in all honesty. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep a hold of his emotions.

As they entered the hall to venture forth to the library, they caught sight of Matthew who was coming down the stairs with Mary. She saw the both of them and then turned to her husband, whispering something in his ear about going and helping Edith in the drawing room, before kissing his cheek and giving an affectionate smile to the other two men…pausing to reach out and give Tom's hand a squeeze before going through.

Tom nodded his head in thanks and lifted his eyes to Matthew, who smiled back. "Mind if I join you both?" he asked.

Sir Anthony smiled. "Please; we were just on our way to the library to have a brandy."

Matthew nodded and put a hand on Tom's other shoulder. "Excellent idea."

Sir Anthony nodded, catching Matthew's eyes and repeating the words the two younger men had said to him earlier. "We brothers-in-law must stick together…"

 **~11~**

"Any news?" Matthew eagerly asked, rising from where he was sitting at the sight of his mother entering the library.

Isobel sighed and shook her head, before glancing past her son to where Tom sat, his palms sweaty, his hands running up and down his trousers, his face contorted in such a way she wasn't sure if he was going to weep or scream.

"Matthew was premature," she piped up.

Tom turned and looked at her, surprised by announcement. No one looked more surprised, however than Matthew. "I was?"

Isobel nodded. "Three weeks as well," she went on. "Your father and I had been trying for years to have a child; we nearly gave up hope and thought it wasn't to be…and then you came along," she murmured, smiling at her son and reaching out to stroke his cheek. "But I was terrified too," she went on, her eyes turning back to Tom. "But that was thirty years ago…medical science has come a long way since then."

Tom swallowed and gave a nod to Isobel. "Thank you," he whispered, trying to smile, before turning his attentions once again to his untouched brandy glass.

Isobel sighed and reached out, touching Tom's shoulder. "You will get through this," she whispered. "Both you and Sybil are two of the strongest people I know; have faith, my boy." She retreated then to a nearby desk, sat down to scribble a note of some kind, before rising from her chair, and without another word, turning to leave the men once again in peace.

Matthew sighed, his gaze fixed outside where the children who had come and attended as Edith's bridesmaids were running around and playing with Isis. He smiled at the sight, and felt a pang in his heart. Was history to repeat itself? Would he and Mary struggle with conceiving, too? Granted, both he and Mary had only been married a few months, and they weren't necessarily trying to fill a nursery yet, but…they were quite…"active"…in their private lives, and in some ways it was amazing that nothing had happened yet.

He shook his head, feeling ashamed that he was thinking such things when his friend and brother-in-law was struggling with the very real possibility that his child may not survive. And what of Sybil's health? Oh God, please, on a day that was meant to be joyful, please don't let something so tragic take place.

Sir Anthony, who was sitting opposite Tom was thinking something very similarly. He loved Edith, he wanted to marry her, he had no further doubts. But if something horrible did happen, to either Lady Sybil or her baby, how could he and Edith go through with the wedding? And while he did not think himself a superstitious sort, it was the kind of thing that did make one wonder…could anything good come from such tragedy?

He chastised himself for thinking such things. This wasn't about him, or Edith; right now, all that mattered was for Lady Sybil to deliver a healthy baby, and for mother and child to come through without any complication.

"Mrs. Crawley is right," Sir Anthony murmured, his face firm with determination. "And Dr. Clarkson will take excellent care of Lady Sybil; of that I have no doubt."

Tom swallowed and gave a silent nod of his head, but still remained silent.

"You will make it through this, Tom," Matthew murmured, coming over and sitting in the chair next to his friend. "Both of you–all _three_ of you, will."

A trembling sigh escaped the Irishman's lips. "God I hope so," he whispered, breaking the silence at last.

Just then the library doors opened and all three men leapt to their feet, staring at the sight of Lord Grantham, who looked as if he had been running.

"Sybil?" Tom asked, his face pale and his eyes wide with fear.

Robert nodded. "She's…she's asking for you," he gasped. "I've been pacing up and down the corridor; Dr. Clarkson said you should come at once."

Tom didn't need anymore prompting. Before Robert had even finished his sentence he was racing up the stairs to his and Sybil's bedroom.

Matthew and Sir Anthony stared at Robert, hoping to learn more. "Well? What is it? What's happening?"

Robert shook his head. "I honestly don't know. As I said, I've been walking up and down that corridor, hoping that would somehow relieve any agitation, though it seems to have made it worse," he muttered before reaching for Tom's untouched brandy and drinking it down in one gulp.

"But she was calling for him, truly?" Sir Anthony asked, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Robert nodded. "She was most adamant, according to Dr. Clarkson."

"Indeed, she is," Isobel announced, reentering the room once more. "The child is crowning and Sybil wants Tom there."

"Oh good God," Robert muttered, turning green at the description Isobel had just described. He reached for the decanter, desperate for another brandy.

Both of his sons-in-law ignored him. "So…so it's happening?" Matthew whispered. "The baby is almost here?"

Isobel nodded. "I would say in that in a matter of minutes, the both of you will be uncles…"

 **~12~**

"Very good, Mrs. Branson, very good!" Dr. Clarkson encouraged.

Sybil was gasping and breathing and gripping her husband's hands tightly. "You're doing wonderfully, love," Tom whispered, ignoring the pain in his fingers from her grip and returning the squeeze, his eyes never leaving her face. As soon as Robert had said that Sybil was asking for him, Tom didn't hesitate. Within a matter of seconds, he was upstairs and in their room, going immediately to his wife's side and taking her hands.

"Toooommm…" she whimpered, but her face lit up with relief at the sight of him. Cora was on her other side, rubbing Sybil's back and trying to help her sit up more as Dr. Clarkson examined her.

"I'm here, love…I'm here…I'm not going anywhere." He kissed her hands and looked directly into her eyes, and as soon as the doctor told her to push, Tom squeezed her hands and encouraged her to do the same. "Keep your eyes on me, love! That's it, that's it, push, my darling, push!"

"AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!" Sybil groaned, squeezing and gasping as she did.

"Almost, Mrs. Branson, almost!"

Sybil whimpered. "I…I can't…"

"Yes you can," Tom answered, kissing her hands again and squeezing them. "You're the strongest person I know; you CAN do this!"

"Listen to Tom, my love," Cora encouraged, rubbing Sybil's back. "Just a few more pushes…"

"It's too soon!" Sybil sobbed. She wasn't a fool; she knew the baby was premature and she hated herself and her body for failing to last the proper length of time. If anything happened…oh Lord, how would she be able to live with herself?

"She's just eager to meet her mam," Tom murmured, leaning up until is forehead touched hers. "And who can blame her?"

Sybil looked at him and despite the everything that was happening…found herself smiling. "Still… _still_ convinced it's a girl…"

He smiled and kissed her lips. "I'm a stubborn man; that's why you love me."

She wanted to laugh, but the pain felt too great. She had no choice, she HAD to push.

"Come on, love," Tom encouraged one more time. "Let's meet our daughter."

Sybil nodded, took a deep breath, and beared down with everything she had, pushing and using all the strength she could muster, and then some, her eyes scrunched closed, her face contorted, her teeth gritted, and her nails digging into the back of Tom's hands as she squeezed them. "AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaHHHHHHHhhhhhhh!"

"Almost!" Dr. Clarkson announced. "The head is out! Just one more, Mrs. Branson, ONE MORE!"

Sybil screamed as she pushed that one final time…and felt her child, at last, leave her body.

"Well done, dear, well done!" Cora cried, her eyes filled with tears as she rubbed her daughter's shoulders and hugged her. "My brave, brave beauty."

"It's a girl!" Dr. Clarkson happily announced.

Tom thought he would burst into tears at the blessed news. "You hear that, love?" he laughed turning and grinning at his wife. "We have a little girl, just like you…" he was sobbing but he couldn't stop smiling either. He leaned up, kissed her again, murmured against her lips how much he loved her, how beautiful she was, before turning his head to Dr. Clarkson who was holding the baby.

"Can we–?"

He was going to ask if they could see the baby; he was eager to see his daughter's eyes, praying they were just like Sybil's. However, his voice died in his throat as he saw the concerned face of the family physician.

"What?" Tom asked, looking at Dr. Clarkson who was glancing at the nurse by his side. It was not a look that gave one much hope. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes growing in desperation. "What? What is it?" he demanded.

"Tom?" Sybil panted, trying to sit up a little more. She reached for him and swallowed as fear gripped her heart. And then she spoke the question that every parent fears in such a moment.

"Why…why isn't the baby crying…?"


	5. Chapter 5

_evil cliffhanger, yes, but hopefully this will make up for it_

* * *

 **~13~**

"Why isn't she crying? WHY ISN'T SHE CRYING!?" Sybil was becoming hysterical.

Cora tried to ease and soothe her daughter, but it was no use. She was ready to launch herself out of the bed if necessary.

Thankfully Tom was there, peering down at the beautiful and somewhat wrinkled face of his daughter, whose color seemed awfully pale. "Give her to me," he ordered, holding his hands out for the baby.

"Mr. Branson–"

"Dr. Clarkson, I'm not going to ask again," he growled, his eyes set and rigid as he looked back at the doctor. "Give her to me."

The nurse glanced at Dr. Clarkson, truly looking frightened. But the Crawley family doctor merely sighed, before handing the swaddled baby to her father.

Tom was trembling, and he took a long, shaky breath as he held the tiny little girl–so small, oh God, he had never seen anything so small!–into his arms and cradled her against him. And then…some unknown instinct washed over him then…and both Cora and the nurse cried out as he turned the baby over, until her stomach was aligned with his arm and her back was facing him, and with a careful but determined hand…he began to pound it against his daughter's back.

"Come on, love…" he whispered over and over. "Breathe, love, breathe…"

Sybil was crying, her vision blurred from her tears, but she couldn't take her eyes away. She gripped her mother's hands and continued to stare, holding her breath, watching as her husband continued to pound on the little back of their child. _Oh please…please, don't do this to us, please…_

"Come on," Tom pleaded. "Listen to me, my darling…all you have to do is breathe…"

 _I've killed her,_ Sybil thought. _My body wasn't strong enough to carry her to full term and I killed her!_

Tom kept pounding. Dr. Clarkson sighed and looked at Cora, his eyes full of sadness, before turning and looking back at Tom who kept working. "Mr. Branson–"

"WAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaHHHHHHhhhhhhhhh!"

Everyone jumped at the sudden and loud cry that came from the tiny form that shivered and wriggled in her father's arms.

"OH!" Sybil gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

Tom nearly fell backwards at the sound, but thankfully when he stumbled backwards he landed on the bed.

Sybil scrambled to his side and reached for the little girl that was screaming upon finding herself in this new, bright, cold, and somewhat frightening new world. "Oh Tom!"

"We've got her…" Tom gasped, turning and looking at Sybil through his tears. "She hasn't left us, Syb, she hasn't left us!"

Oh how she wanted to hold her! How she wanted to cradle her little girl, so tiny, so small against her breasts and nurse her and never let her go. But Dr. Clarkson stepped forward, looking happy for the young family, but also looking grave. "The trial isn't over yet, I'm afraid," he told them as he began to reach out for the child.

"W-w-what?" Tom stammered, lifting his eyes to the doctor, shrinking back as the man tried to take his daughter. "What do you mean? Why? She's perfectly fine–"

"She's three weeks early, Mr. Branson," Dr. Clarkson tried to explain as gently as possible. "This is a critical time for her; we need to take her to the hospital and keep her monitored."

"The hospital!?" Sybil gasped, trying to sit up, wanting to rise and follow.

"It's for the best," Dr. Clarkson tried to explain.

"But…but surely…?" Tom was still holding her close, extremely reluctant to give her up. Surely the hospital was the last place their daughter should go? Wouldn't she be more at risk in such place? Exposed to sickness and disease?

As if reading their minds, Dr. Clarkson tried to reassure them. "The special ward where the babies are kept is far away from any other place in the hospital. It's very clean, I assure you. And a great deal has changed since you were last here, Nurse Branson," he added, looking Sybil in the eyes.

Tom turned to his wife, unsure what to say but relying on her since she was a nurse and would know better than anyone. "Love?"

Sybil didn't want to. She wanted to hold her child and keep her with her. She wanted the three of them, mother, father, and baby, to have a moment to themselves, to take joy in the beauty of this moment when they were a family, together.

But she knew he was right. She knew that this was a critical time. And that their daughter had nearly perished once already. She did not want to go through that fear again.

"It's alright, Tom," she whispered, nodding her head at her husband.

He still looked unsure…but as he gazed into his wife's eyes, he saw the certainty and assurance in them, and knew to trust her opinion. So with a sigh, he looked one more time at his daughter, who was sleepily looking up at him…and saw, at last…her pretty blue eyes. _Just like her mother's._

"Alright," he whispered, and with great reluctance, handed the child back to Dr. Clarkson, who gave her to the nurse to wrap and keep warm.

"I understand this is difficult," he murmured to the Bransons. "But it's for the best, and I promise you…" he looked into their eyes, especially Sybil's. "She will receive nothing short of the very best care…"

 **~14~**

"It's a girl!" Cora announced, smiling at the rest of the Crawley family who had gathered in the library. A majority of the guests had left, only a few remained in the drawing room. At Cora's announcement, a delighted and relieved gasp went up around room.

"May we go up and see her?" Mary asked, looking eager to see her baby sister.

"She's resting right now," Cora explained. "Perhaps in a few hours."

"Where's Tom?" Matthew asked.

"And how is the baby doing?" Edith asked, looking eager to learn what was happening. She had been one the last member the family to come to the library and Matthew and Sir Anthony had been filling her in on all that she had missed.

Cora sighed and looked down at the ground. "The baby is fine…for now," she murmured, hating that she had to speak in such a way, but the situation was still very critical; anything could happen with one so small. "Dr. Clarkson…well, he thinks it's best that the child stay the night at the hospital."

"WHAT!?" Robert all but bellowed, rising to his feet and glaring back and forth between his wife and the door of the library, as if he were debating about going out and challenging the very idea.

"That sounds serious," Sir Anthony added, stating the rather obvious.

Cora nodded. "The child is very small; and Dr. Clarkson wants her to be at the hospital to monitor her health for at least the night." Although it was likely that the littlest Branson might be staying for more than just a night. "She is beautiful," Cora felt it was important to say. "She has Sybil's eyes."

Both Mary and Edith smiled at this, but there was still a feeling of uncertainty in the air. The danger wasn't completely gone.

"Is Tom with Sybil now?" Matthew asked, to which Cora nodded.

"Well, I think that's that for the day then," Violet sighed, rising from the chaise she was seated. Indeed, little else would be happening now.

Sir Anthony glanced over at Edith. "I suppose I should be leaving too, then," he murmured.

Edith looked a little sad at the prospect of her fiancée leaving (especially since she thought that tonight would have been their wedding night) however she gave him a loving smile and nodded her head. "I'll see you to the door."

Violet watched as the pair left the library and then turned a rather accusatory eye upon Matthew. "No doubt you're proud of yourself?" she asked him.

But it was Mary who answered, lacing her arm through her husband's. "I am," she said with a haughty lift of her eyebrow, the sort of look that could rival Violet's, especially since it was her grandmother to whom she had learned it from.

Violet didn't say anything, simply pursed her lips and turned her head. Matthew and Mary however turned and smiled at each other in that knowing way that was uniquely their own.

Out in the hall, Sir Anthony and Edith were facing each other, their hands linked and their faces close.

"I'm sorry today didn't turn out like you had hoped," he murmured to her.

Edith shook her head. "It could have been much worse; I'd say we're all rather lucky."

Was she referring to the worst mistake he had nearly made? Or the fact that Lady Sybil's labor could have gone horribly? Either or both, perhaps.

He gazed at her and smiled, taking in the lovely peach gown she now wore. "I do love this dress," he admitted, looking rather bashful.

Edith grinned, feeling rather bold. "I should hope so; it was the gown I wore when you finally proposed to me."

He chuckled and licked his lips, the urge kiss her growing more and more. "Oh my sweet one…" he whispered, his forehead leaning close enough to touch hers. Edith held her breath and closed her eyes, tilting her face ever so slightly–

"Come along, Edith, kiss your grandmother goodnight," Violet interrupted.

Edith groaned and rolled her eyes. _Granny…_

Sir Anthony understood her irritation, but despite it, chuckled and then kissed her cheek to calm her, and whispered in her ear. "Tomorrow…"

 **~15~**

"…I feel so strange."

Tom had been standing on the other side of the room when he heard his wife's soft whisper. He looked up and noticed how she was running a hand over her belly, still round after nearly nine months of carrying their child, but now…empty. It was true, he realized; if he placed his hand over her stomach, he wouldn't feel that sharp kick he had been feeling over the past several months, that little reminder that their daughter was warm and safe inside her mother. He had been looking forward to this day, so much; he had imagined this night so differently.

But the joy he thought he would be feeling wasn't there, or rather, it had been replaced with worry and anxiety for their little girl who was lying in some room at the hospital, with nurses attending her rather than her parents. And while he had no doubt that Dr. Clarkson would keep his promise and make sure their daughter had only the very best care…still…a child needed her family. And they desperately needed her.

"I know it's going to sound silly…" Sybil whispered again. "But…but do you think…?" she paused, as if she felt foolish to even say what she was about to say.

Tom looked at her with tender concern. "Go on, love; do I think what?"

She nibbled her bottom lip and looked up at him. "Do you think she'll forget all about us?"

As soon as the words left her lips, tears began to stream down her face. Tom moved across the room quickly and sat down next to his wife, taking her hand and in his, while carefully gathering her in his arms (she was still very tender and sore after the ordeal of her labor).

"I…I mean…" she sniffled. "I've heard so many…so many nurses say that…that those first few minutes between a mother and a child–"

"She'll not forget us," Tom interrupted, murmuring the words into her hair as he pressed his lips to her brow. "As soon as you pick her up, and cradle her against your body…from your touch and your scent, she'll know."

Oh how she wanted to believe him. But even more so, how she wanted to be holding her daughter right at this very moment. Oh God, she hadn't even had the proper chance to hold her!

"We'll go and see her tomorrow," Tom vowed. "And…and maybe, we'll be able to bring her home, too?" At least that was what he hoped. Dr. Clarkson had been rather vague as to how long their child would need to stay at the hospital. Was it just for the night? Or was it going to be for several days? Oh God, he prayed it wasn't going to be for another three weeks.

"However long it takes," he said, squeezing her hand. "Until she can come home, we'll go and spend every day with her."

Sybil sighed, her heart breaking at the thought, but she nodded her head and squeezed his hand, so grateful to him, and once again, so thankful that he was her husband.

"I do feel bad for Edith and Anthony, though," Sybil murmured after a moment. "When do you think the wedding can resume?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "We can ask them that tomorrow. But I have a feeling they're going to want to wait for you to be better first." She opened her mouth as if to protest, but stopped her by gently taking her face in his hands, before tenderly leaving a kiss on her cheek. "I know you love your sisters and want to see everyone happy…but what will bring us all the most happiness, is you, fully recovered."

She sighed again, but nodded her head in agreement. She knew Tom was right, and knew that her family would want this as well.

"Now…are you sure you don't want the bed to yourself tonight?" he asked, his eyes tender with concern. "I don't want to cause you any discomfort–"

"Tom," she interrupted. "My daughter is in the hospital because her health is very delicate. I've experienced every sort of emotion a woman can experience when going through childbirth…and yet I feel I have not had any of the benefits of those experiences. I haven't even held her!" She took a deep breath, swallowing back the tears that threatened to explode. "I need my husband; I need him to hold me right now, more than anything. Please?"

He nodded and with a gentle hand, eased her down on the bed beside him, his arms carefully enfolding her, and Sybil sighed with relief as she lay her head in the space where his arm and chest came together.

She was so exhausted after everything that had happened, that it didn't take long for sleep to come. But before it did, she remembered hearing her husband murmur against her brow a promise, with the simple word, "Tomorrow…"


	6. Chapter 6

_Yeah, that was a lot of updates yesterday, but I didn't want to leave you dangling on that angsty ledge for too long ;o) Thanks for reading!_

* * *

 **~16~**

"Sybil…?"

She groaned and rolled over, her arm reaching out and searching for the solid warmth of her husband, but her eyes fluttered open upon feeling only an empty pillow.

"Tom's gone downstairs already; no doubt Matthew will be keeping him company."

She sat up and looked across the room to where her two older sisters stood, smiling and looking so happy at the sight of her.

"What…what are you…?"

"We came to see you, silly!" Edith giggled, taking a seat on the foot of Sybil's bed. Mary came around and sat at her other side. "You gave us quite a fright yesterday, you know."

Sybil blushed and gazed at her sisters with loving eyes. She was glad to see the both of them. She was reminded of how, when they were all younger, they would sometimes have morning gatherings like this in one another's room, especially on the morning after a party, where they would giggle and gossip about the previous night. The last time Sybil could recall such a morning had been the day after her coming out ball in London. Mary and Edith were eager to find out if she had taken a shine to any of her dance partners, but little did they know that the man who Sybil had been secretly thinking about was none other than the radical Irish chauffeur that they had left back at Downton.

"Oh Edith," Sybil murmured, looking into her sister's dark eyes. "I'm so sorry about–"

"Oh hush," Edith scolded. "I'll not hear any apologies."

"But your wedding–"

"Will carry on when you are better and our niece is home," Edith grinned with a nod of her head.

"Yes, your health means more to us than anything, Sybil," Mary added. "You're sweet for always thinking about us and trying to make us and others happy, but what will truly make us happy is you on the mend."

Sybil couldn't help but laugh at Mary's words. "Have you been talking to Tom?" At her sister's look of confusion she explained that Tom had said something similar the night before.

"Well…he's a smart man," Mary declared with a nod of approval. "But I always knew that, since he had the good sense in marrying you."

Edith looked at Mary in disbelief. "Didn't you once wish for Sir Richard to run him over?"

Mary shrugged her shoulders. "As I always tell Matthew, you shouldn't take everything I say seriously."

All three sisters began laughing then, and Sybil felt a loving warmth wrap around her as she gazed at their smiling faces. She reached forward, and they immediately leaned in and grasped her hands.

"I love you both very much," she murmured, squeezing their hands. Mary and Edith smiled and squeezed hers back…and then glanced at each other…and with their free hands, grasped each other, a rare sign of sisterly affection shared between them, but one that made Sybil smile.

"If I had known my leaving for Ireland would have ceased your endless squabbling, I would have done it years ago!"

The two older Crawley girls groaned. "Well, when Edith was the only one I had left talk to…" Mary teased.

Edith rolled her eyes. "It's all Matthew's doing; marriage has made Mary soft."

"SOFT!?"

Sybil laughed. "Alright, alright, let's not ruin the moment."

The two sisters poked their tongues out at each other, something that they would never dare do in front of anyone else, but each other and their baby sister. They then all burst into giggles before calming down and gazing back at each other in the sort of love and friendship that can only be felt and exchanged between sisters.

"Will you help me go to the hospital?" Sybil asked them. "I want to see her."

Their smiles quickly changed to looks of concern. "Oh Sybil, are you sure–?"

"I _need_ to see her," Sybil told Edith. "And…and she needs to see me, too."

"Of course," Mary murmured, squeezing Sybil's hand. "Matthew and I will go with you."

Sybil smiled and turned to Edith. "Will you be seeing Sir Anthony?"

"Yes," she sighed, squeezing her sister's hand. "We need to talk to Mr. Travis and make our apologies for yesterday, as well as reset the date."

Sybil blushed. "Oh Lord, I should apologize–"

"You will do no such thing," Edith interrupted. "And if Mr. Travis says anything negatively about the matter, why I have a right mind to take Granny's cane and strike him over the head with it."

"Edith!" Mary gasped, although the look in her eyes said she would do the same thing.

Sybil grinned at her sisters; no, they had not always gotten along, and there were many things they didn't see eye to eye on, but they were fiercely loyal to one another, and after the harrowing events of the past twenty-four hours, they each had come to the importance of valuing each other and never taking their relationship for granted.

"I'll go and see if Anna can bring you a tray," Mary informed, rising from the bed.

Sybil smiled and nodded her head in thanks. "Thank you, _both_ of you, for…well, for 'fighting for me'," she blushed.

"We'll always fight in your corner," Edith grinned. "Just as you fight in ours."

Mary nodded. "Even when we don't 'entirely' agree," she teased, giving Sybil a wink.

Sybil's blush increased. "It's funny you should mention that, because…well…I was wondering…" she paused, looking up at her sisters a little sheepishly. "If you'll fight for Tom and I when we tell Papa that we would like the baby to be christened Catholic…?"

 **~17~**

"Mrs. Branson, you really shouldn't be here!" Dr. Clarkson admonished at the sight of seeing Sybil enter the hospital, holding onto both her husband and brother-in-law as they supported her in helping her walk through the door. "You had a very traumatic birth; you should be home resting!"

"Where is she?" Sybil asked, ignoring the doctor.

Dr. Clarkson groaned and tried a new tactic. "Nurse Branson, you of all people should know–"

"And YOU of all people should know that I was never one who played by 'the rules' very well," Sybil interrupted. "I will concede that coming down here has taken a great deal of energy from me…and can reassure you that once I return to Downton, I will get plenty of bed rest. But until then, please…?"

Her eyes were round and pleading, and Dr. Clarkson knew he couldn't say no to her now. "Alright," he sighed, before turning and leading the way to the ward where babies were treated and kept for observation. "I'll have a nurse bring her to you," he explained, after showing them a room where they could wait.

Both Matthew and Mary glanced around the white starched walls of the hospital wing, feeling somewhat uneasy, Mary especially so. As for Matthew, the last time he had been in the hospital had been when he was recovering from his injuries that he had sustained during the War. The only pleasant memory he had of the place was when Mary had spent all those hours nursing him back to health.

Tom helped Sybil sit in a chair, and he sat close by, one arm wrapped around her, needing to feel grounded and anchored despite all the anxiety he was feeling. In a few short minutes, they would be meeting their daughter again. And yet for some reason, it felt as if it would be the first time, too.

"What will you name her?" Mary asked, trying to ease the tension.

Sybil and Tom glanced at each other. "Well…the 'plan' had always been that I would name our child if he were a boy…and Tom would name her if she were a girl."

"So Tom is the winner of that bet," Matthew chuckled, turning his full attention to his brother-in-law. "And the verdict is…?"

Tom glanced at Sybil, suddenly looking nervous. "I…well, I had several names I kept bouncing back and forth in my head, but…but after yesterday, there was only one name I kept thinking…"

The other three were leaning in, intrigued and eager to hear his answer.

"Sybil," he finally answered.

"Sybil?" Mary and Matthew said at the same time in surprise.

"MY NAME!?" Sybil answered, staring back at her husband in dismay.

"Why not?" Tom defended. "Didn't Abigail Adams name her only daughter Abby?"

Matthew couldn't help but laugh at this. He could just imagine Violet rolling her eyes before making another comment about "Americans" under her breath.

"But…but won't that be confusing?" Sybil asked, not necessarily saying "no" to the idea, but clearly looking unsure about the idea.

"Well…only if you are both called Sybil at the same time," Mary murmured. "But…I must say, I find myself agreeing with Tom."

Tom found himself laughing. "Will wonders never cease?"

Mary gave him a look before continuing. "In all seriousness, it's a good name! One that a little girl can feel proud about," she said matter-of-factly. "And if men can name their sons after themselves, why not daughters after their mothers?"

Now it was Sybil who laughed. "Why Mary, that sounds positively 'progressive' of you."

Mary rolled her eyes, but gave her sister a loving smile. "You're a bad influence," she haughtily replied. "But to answer your original question, Sybil, you could call her…" she paused, thinking for a moment, before smiling and answering, "Sybbie."

"Sybbie?" everyone else said at the same time. Thought Matthew found himself grinning broadly at the name. "Yes…Sybbie does sound rather perfect, wouldn't you agree Tom?"

Tom repeated the name again. "Aye, it does."

"Sybbie Saoirse," Sybil declared, lifting her chin. "That's my only compromise."

Tom grinned, loving Sybil's instance that their daughter have an Irish name. And such a fitting name, attached with a name he so dearly loved already. "Perfect," he murmured, kissing her brow.

Just then the door to the room opened and everyone held their breath…as a little girl, squirming in the blanket she was swaddled in, was brought into the room and handed to her parents.

"Oh Tom…" Sybil gasped, as for the first time, at last…she was able to hold her daughter.

"She's so beautiful," he whispered, his hand coming around to join Sybil's as they held her, gazing down at their daughter, their little Sybbie Saoirse Branson, with such love that it brought tears to their eyes. Tom looked at his wife and feeling overwhelmed, murmured through trembling lips, "oh my darling, I do love you so much."

Sybil whispered the words back, then leaned close to kiss him again, before they both turned their attentions one last time to their child.

Mary and Matthew glanced at each other, and nodded their heads, feeling it was right to give the Bransons a moment alone together as a family.

"Oh I have a question to ask Dr. Clarkson, about seeing to Sybil's care," Mary informed her husband. "I'll be just a moment."

Matthew looked confused, but nodded his head, and Mary leaned close, kissed his cheek, before turning and walking swiftly to the doctor's office.

Indeed, she did have a question for him…but it had nothing to do with Sybil…


	7. Chapter 7

_Nearly finished! Just one more after this..._

* * *

 **~18~**

 _"Pregnant!?"_ Sybil gasped, staring at her sister with wide eyes.

"Sshhh!" Mary hissed, looking frantically towards Sybil's door which was ajar. "I don't want anyone else to know!"

Sybil frowned. "But…but why? I mean, surely Matthew–"

"No, I want to wait until after the wedding," Mary explained. "Lord knows Mama and Papa made enough of a fuss over me and my wedding day, I don't want to take that away from Edith, especially after everything that's happened. She's already having to deal with the fact that you and Sybbie took some of that thunder away," she teased.

Sybil blushed but looked at her sister with concern. "Alright, I understand if you want to wait and not say anything to them until afterwards, but…but why keep Matthew in the dark?"

Mary sighed and looked down at her hands which she realized where unconsciously resting against her belly, which was still small and flat, for the time being. She glanced at Sybil's, which still had some of its roundness. Good heavens, would she look like that in so many months from now?

"We…we haven't really discussed the matter of having children," she explained. "I mean of course we want them, but…but this is very soon, wouldn't you agree? We were only married two months ago–heavens, it's sooner than even you and Tom!"

Sybil blushed again but smiled, reaching out for Mary's hand and taking it. "Matthew is going to be thrilled. I saw the way he was looking at Tom when Tom was holding Sybbie earlier," Sybil sighed, recalling the sweet memory herself. It was while Mary had gone to see Dr. Clarkson; Matthew was called back into the room and Tom was holding Sybbie, showing her to him and grinning so broadly.

 _"Isn't she beautiful?" he said with so much pride._

 _"Just like her mother," Matthew was quick answer, giving Sybil a smile._

 _"Aye, that she is," Tom chuckled, kissing Sybbie's downy head before turning his eyes once more to hers._

 _But Sybil was watching Matthew and noticing how Sybbie's uncle was gazing at the image of father and child…and looking perhaps a little envious. Yes, there was little doubt that Matthew wanted to be like Tom in that moment. He was ready to be a father._

"Oh Mary, please don't wait; please tell him?"

Mary blushed and squeezed Sybil's hand. "I'll think about it," she said. "I only hesitate because I don't know if he'll be able to remain quiet! Naturally he'll want to say something to Isobel–"

"Oh gracious, just don't let Granny know," Sybil giggled. She was moved that her sister had come to her, though, and trusted her with this news. Perhaps that was because she was a new mother as well?

"The first of us married and the first of us to have a child," Mary murmured, squeezing Sybil's hand.

"And the baby of the family, herself."

"Only in matters of age," Mary laughed. "Your experiences and 'sage-like wisdom' certainly make you the eldest."

"That comes from years of having to play referee to you and Edith," Sybil teased.

Mary was about to say something further, when the very sister whom Sybil had mentioned entered the room, looking sad and distraught.

"Edith?" Mary asked, looking up at her, her smile fading. "What's happened?"

Edith sighed. "Sir Anthony and I went to see Mr. Travis," she began to explain…as well sniffle. "He…he says that it will be at least five weeks until he can perform the wedding."

Sybil's mouth fell open. "Five weeks!?"

"Good heavens!" Mary added. "I didn't think it would be longer than a fortnight."

Edith nodded in agreement. Clearly that's what she had been thinking too. "I…I know I shouldn't complain, but…but it seems so far away…" she sighed and began to quickly wipe at her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I…I didn't want Anthony to see me crying, though I know he's disappointed as well," she took a deep breath to calm her emotions and then did what she could to force a smile. "Anyway, tell me all about my niece!" she said, joining Mary at the foot of Sybil's bed. "I saw Tom and Matthew in the billiard room on my way up; they said that her name is Sybbie?"

"Why not have the wedding here?"

Both Mary and Edith were stunned by Sybil's sudden outburst.

"W-w-what?" Edith stuttered.

"I'm not saying that you can't have a ceremony, but have that later, as a vow renewal service," Sybil explained. "But five weeks is frightfully long and you and Sir Anthony have done enough waiting. So have the wedding here, at Downton. As we did for William and Daisy!"

Edith didn't know what to say. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She knew what she wanted to say which was an over-resounding "YES!" but there were so many factors. Her parents needed to accept the idea, and Mr. Travis still needed to come. She also needed to talk to Anthony, though she was fairly positive he would share her feelings.

"But…but what about you? I want you to be there," Edith insisted.

Sybil smiled. "Well, if you have it here, I will be," she grinned. "And Dr. Clarkson thinks that Sybbie can come home the day after tomorrow, so she can be there too!"

Edith looked back and forth between her sisters. "Oh Mary…" she murmured, looking at her elder sister with hopeful eyes. "Do you think Mama and Papa will go for it?"

Mary was radiating confidence. Sybil couldn't help but wonder if that glow was partially because she was a new mother.

"Leave it to me…"

 **~19~**

"This is highly irregular," the dowager countess muttered under her breath to her son. "I don't see what all the fuss is about; five weeks isn't _that_ long of a wait."

Robert sighed and put on a smile for his mother. "The younger generations have no sense of patience," he said, more to appease her than anything else.

Violet lifted a haughty eyebrow. "Then what is Sir Anthony's excuse? He is hardly a member of the 'younger generation'."

"No, but he is a groom looking forward to his wedding night," rang out a voice from across the room.

"Sybil!" Violet gasped, before shaking her head. Her granddaughter had never been this vulgar. She completely blamed the Irishman.

Sybil simply beamed, feeling quite proud of herself for "out-sassing" the Dowager Countess of Grantham. "Tonight or tomorrow," she murmured under her breath, which earned her another look of warning from her grandmother, but she continued to smile sweetly and ever look the picture of innocence.

"Alright everyone, here come the men," Mary announced from the doorway. They were all sitting in the drawing room, Sybil reclining somewhat on a chaise with a blanket on her lap, the others on chairs. In Sybil's arms was her daughter, who was looking a great deal healthier. Dr. Clarkson was impressed with how well the child was doing, and agreed that she could come home to be with her parents at last, though he would still continue to make daily visits for the next few days, just to make sure everything was continuing to go well. Sybil couldn't be happier, and all evening people would join her on the chaise to coo and smile over baby Sybbie.

At Mary's announcement, Sybil and the rest looked up to see Mr. Travis enter first, wearing an expression was similar to the dowager countess, but thanks to Mary's firm insistence, had agreed to perform this rather "irregular" wedding ceremony.

Behind the vicar followed the groom himself, who was flanked on either side by his two soon-to-be brothers-in-law, who were also beaming with pride. Tom's eyes quickly went to his wife, before looking down at the sweet bundle she held, and his grin only grew larger. Matthew smiled at his niece as well, but then shifted his gaze to his own wife, who smiling back at him, before murmuring something about going and checking on the bride, who was with their mother. He frowned a little as he watched Mary leave the room. She was keeping something from him, but he wasn't sure what, exactly. It couldn't be anything bad, because she seemed to be very… _happy_ –even happier than when they had gotten married. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it…

While they waited for the bride, Mr. Travis glanced over at the baby in Sybil's arms. "Ahh, my congratulations to you, Lady Sybil," he said with a nod of his head.

Sybil smiled and nodded back in thanks.

"While we are waiting, perhaps we should make plans for the christening?"

Sybil's smile fell away and she felt Tom stiffen. He had just joined her on the chaise and the two of them exchanged a weary look. They hadn't said anything yet to the Crawley family, outside of Sybil's sisters, about their wish to have Sybbie christened Catholic. And tonight didn't feel like the best night to try and have such a discussion, which no doubt would prove to be very "lively" when it took place.

Thankfully, at that moment they were interrupted by Mary's reappearance with their mother, who was grinning broadly and smiling at Sir Anthony, before reaching out to squeeze his hand. "Here comes the bride," Cora whispered, before stepping aside…and allowing Edith to finally enter the room.

She was wearing her green velvet gown, one that Sir Anthony thought looked particularly lovely on her, as he had often told her. In her hands was a small bouquet of peach-colored roses, and in her hair, she wasn't wearing the Crawley tiara, which she had worn at the wedding the other day, but rather a sapphire clip that Sir Anthony had given her as an engagement present when they had made their announcement. _Something blue,_ Sybil thought, smiling at her sister and grinning at her husband, whose right arm came around her, while his left hand covered hers as they both held their daughter.

Mary joined Matthew and laced her arm through his, while Cora joined her husband and took his hand in hers. Behind them all, standing in the back of the room, but also smiling at the sight, were a good number of the Downton staff, including those that weren't often permitted to come upstairs, including Daisy and Mrs. Patmore. However, Edith thought it right to include them in this ceremony, especially since the kitchen staff had been so busy last time in trying to make everything ready for the wedding breakfast that had followed when there had been no wedding. And one could say it was Tom's influence, that Edith felt perhaps other members of staff should be present anyway. After all, if the former chauffeur had married into the family, then why not have maids, footmen, valets, and the butler and housekeeper in attendance as well?

"Well, now I've seen everything," Violet muttered under her breath, before nodding at Mr. Travis to "get on with it" so to speak.

Anthony was gazing at his lovely bride with awe. Edith was smiling up at him. Despite all the people in the room, the two had only eyes for each other.

"Very well…" Mr. Travis cleared his throat. Anthony swallowed, gave a somewhat sheepish apology to the vicar, before reaching out and with trembling fingers, taking Edith's hands in his own. Edith handed her bouquet to Mary, and then smiled as she held her soon-to-be husband's hands (finally!) as Mr. Travis began to recite the age-old words.

"Dearly beloved…" he began, and the a hush fell over the room, save for the mild gurgling that came from little Miss Sybbie Branson who was being rocked in her parents arms.

Each couple began to think about their own wedding. Mary and Matthew remembered the grand affair, as well as the near panic that had occurred the night before when it looked as if it might have been canceled. Thank heaven they had come to their senses! Mary glanced up at Matthew out of the corner of her eye and found herself wondering…should she say something to her husband tonight?

Sybil and Tom remembered the ceremony they had had in Dublin with a large number of Tom's family in attendance. They remembered the rather wild party that took place in a nearby pub, one that an uncle ran, and how Sybil danced practically every dance that night ("because it's good luck for the bride to dance with everyone!" someone had told her). She had laughed so much, especially when Tom demanded cutting in with half of her partners.

Robert and Cora remembered their wedding, as did the dowager countess, but those weddings had been nothing like this one. A first time for everything, the old woman supposed with a sigh. Well, despite her misgivings about the match, she would concede that her granddaughter and the baronet looked to be well suited for each other. And very happy.

"…I pronounce you man and wife," Mr. Travis concluded, before giving a final blessing over the newly married couple. "What God hath joined, let no man put asunder."

A long shaky breath escaped Edith's lungs at the vicar's words and she looked up at Sir Anthony…her husband. HER HUSBAND!

Without a second thought, she gripped the man by the lapels of his dinner jacket and leaned up on her tip toes, kissing him RIGHT THERE for all the world to see!

"Good heavens!" Violet gasped, looking rather horrified by the sudden display of emotion and affection. Robert and Cora looked a little surprised as well, and were blushing deeply, however they did smile and then turned and smiled at each other.

"Bravo!" Matthew declared, before turning his head and stealing a kiss from his own wife's lips.

Tom and Sybil laughed at Mary's surprised gasp that turned into a bit of a moan, before turning and kissing each other, their daughter making her presence known, as if demanding attention as well.

But the bride and groom paid no heed to anyone else. They were lost in each other. Sir Anthony returned Edith's kiss with the vigor of a man twenty years his junior. Indeed, with Edith, he felt younger, that he could accomplish anything. He had meant it when he had told her that she had "given him back his life"…


	8. Chapter 8

_Here's the final chapter! Thanks again for reading and reviewing! LONG LIVE STEAMM!_

* * *

 **~20~**

"Happy my dear?" Robert asked his middle daughter as he led her down the aisle for the second time that summer.

Edith smiled and looked up at him. "Very, Papa."

Her husband was waiting for her at the end of the aisle, already smiling and eagerly awaiting his wife and bride to join him as they would renew the vows they had made five weeks prior, in the drawing room of Downton Abbey.

The ceremony was a bit smaller compared to the last time, but neither Edith nor Sir Anthony minded. Once again, Matthew and Tom stood as Anthony's "best men", and the rest of the Crawley/Branson family stood nearby, with the latest edition nestled in her mother's arms.

This time, when Mr. Travis led the ceremony, there were no delays or interruptions. No new mother went into unexpected labor, the groom didn't have cold feet, and any further photographs that would be taken would take place _after_ the ceremony this time.

Indeed, the second wedding day went off without a hitch! And after the ceremony was complete, a crowd stood outside the church and tossed rose petals into the air, wishing congratulations a second time for Sir Anthony and Lady Strallan.

The weather was very pleasant (not overly windy like it had been on Edith's first wedding day), so the wedding breakfast was actually held outdoors. Sir Anthony sat in a chair and smiled as he watched his wife weave through the guests, thanking them for coming, overhearing many compliments from his peers about what a fine woman Lady Strallan was, and how she would make Sir Anthony a wonderful wife and Loxley a fine mistress.

The photographer was busy taking many pictures, both formal and informal. One such photograph was that of the Bransons, with little Sybbie wearing her brand new christening gown, a gift from her Irish grandmother. Sybil was eager to have the photograph taken, so that her mother-in-law and the rest of Tom's family could see Sybbie wearing such finery. It had been a bit of a battle, convincing her father to go along with her and Tom's wish to have Sybbie christened Catholic, and Sybil was convinced that if Mary hadn't stepped forward and fought in her corner, just like she said she would, that battle may have led to some hurtful words and broken hearts. But thankfully it didn't come to that. In fact, Robert had quickly fallen under the spell of Little Miss Sybbie Saoirse Branson, and if the child wasn't in the arms of her parents, she was most likely in the arms of her grandfather.

A point did come in the wedding breakfast when Sybbie began to get fussy, and Sybil felt it best that the child be taken in for a nap. "Let me, please?" Mary asked, smiling as she reached for her niece.

She carried the little girl inside, being careful as she held the child's head, momentarily wondering whenever she looked at Sybbie, if this was what it would be like when her child was born? She wasn't aware that someone had followed her inside, until she had placed Sybbie down in her cradle and looked over her shoulder to see her husband standing there.

"She is beautiful," Matthew murmured, smiling at his niece.

"She is," Mary replied, gazing at the little girl who looked to be grinning up at them.

"I hope you don't mind me saying…" Matthew murmured after a while. "That…you look very natural with her."

Mary blushed but found herself smiling at this. "What do you think of the name…George?"

Matthew's brow furrowed with confusion. "It's…a good name," he finally replied. "I do like it. What brought this on?"

Mary's fingers played with the edges of Sybbie's blanket. "I like it too; George Reginald Crawley…yes, that has a very nice ring to it."

Matthew swallowed the lump in his throat. Was she…?

Mary looked over her shoulder and smiled at her husband. "Yes," she whispered, laughing as Matthew staggered backwards, grabbing hold of a nearby table as the surprise of the announcement washed over him.

"Good heavens…when…when did you…?"

"Promise you won't be angry?" Mary giggled, before telling him that she had found out back when Sybbie was born, but had wanted to wait till after Edith's wedding to say anything. Matthew was just in awe of the news, and his hands reverently went to Mary's stomach where their child was already growing.

"I'm amazed, my darling," he confessed, but he was grinning happily. "Amazed and delighted!" he leaned in to kiss her, but paused, a thought coming over him. "But what if its a girl?"

Mary shook her head. "That's one thing my Irish brother-in-law and I have in common; he was positive without a doubt that they were having a girl, and I am positive without a doubt that we are having a boy."

Matthew laughed. He would never dream of arguing with his future countess. They kissed at last and hugged each other tightly, Sybbie gurgling happily as she watched.

"Does anyone else know?" Matthew asked.

"Just Sybil," Mary told him. "And let's not spread the news too quickly. But go on and tell your brothers-in-law; thick as thieves the three of you." she laughed.

Matthew did just that; Tom and Sir Anthony toasting him with another bottle of champagne, while Mary shared her news with Edith, who gave a happy squeal and hugged her sister in congratulations. They would wait to tell the rest of the Crawley family for another day. Right now, it was a moment of happiness between sisters, brothers, and spouses.

In the years that followed, it was often said by family members and friends in both Britain and Ireland, that the connection between the children of the Crawleys, Strallans, and Bransons, was so strong, that you would think them all siblings instead of cousins. And that connection continued, through grandchildren and great-grandchildren, each generation passing on the stories about the lawyer from Manchester who discovered himself to be the future Earl of Grantham, the eldest Crawley daughter who went head to head with him, the baronet who had come to court the eldest daughter, but who lost his heart to the middle one instead, who would go on to become a successful writer during the 1920's, the Irish radical chauffeur, who always said he would make something of himself, and the suffragette who wore trousers and became a nurse during the Great War, and who had boldly declared that she would not give him up.

All three couples became a great inspiration to those that followed them…and continue to be an inspiration for fans today.

 **THE END!**


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